


Te encontraré una mañana (One morning I will find you)

by Liliriu



Category: Dream Cycle - H. P. Lovecraft, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works, The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliriu/pseuds/Liliriu
Summary: Randolph mourns an old love, dreams about an older, and meets a new one.
Relationships: Randolph Carter/Death of the Endless, Randolph Carter/Harley Warren, Randolph Carter/Nyarlathotep
Kudos: 7





	Te encontraré una mañana (One morning I will find you)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Canción para mi Muerte by Sui Generis.  
> Contains plagiarisms of Salomé (Oscar Wilde), The Raven (Edgar Allan Poe), and Nyarlathotep (H.P. Lovecraft).

Randolph Carter had not gotten much of sleep ever since the death of him. He, who was his friend; he, who was his guide and ruthless master, who had shown him many dreads and wonders; and made him tremble like a little bitch at bed; he, of the fiery eyes and mellow tenor; who had terrified and dominated, and embraced him in torrid nights. He'd been his Fair Youth and Dark Lady, his Lord Douglas, his Carmilla, his Lenore.

First, he'd lost his youth and dreams. Then, his sanity in the Great War. And now his love was gone, his Harley Warren, and the world was cold and empty ever since.

~*~

She had seen him once, when he was young, when he was sweet, and She was visiting Her brother's realm. And She had loved him, and She had claimed him. And Morpheus had responded “wait,” for the lad was a favorite of Him. And She had complied, and left him untouched, and both knew that Randolph Carter would be Hers.

~*~

Randolph Carter slept one night, and dreamt of Him, his oldest love. And in the dream, He came from Egypt, and He was swarthy, slender, sinister. And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished; for the small hours were rent with screams of nightmare. And in the dream, the Crawling Chaos was his Harley. And when he woke, the Chaos waited on his bed.

She wore a kinder form: a very young, unruly maiden. Her hair was short, and Her dress shorter underneath Egyptian tokens. He felt no fear, for She was pale as he had been, and slim as he had been, and he could sense his dark gaze in Her eyes.

She told him “come,” and then undressed. Her thighs were white, Her perfume sweet. And he went home, to his last love.


End file.
